The stress is mounting.

There is no more “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it”. I’m there. I have to move out of my apt. next month and I have not found a place to live yet. I’m back at work but I know deeply that I just don’t belong there, and I hate the 50 minute commute. My anxiety keeping popping up all day long. Plus, I’m over stressed with trying to cram so much into each day.

My sleep is horrible lately too. My mind is running with concerns of “what to pack, what to sell, what to throw away, where the hell are you going anyway? Shit do I move back in with my sister who is repelling to me? Oh god am I really going to end up moving back to my hometown? That place kills me!” At some point I end up falling asleep only to wake up at 3 a.m. with the same concerns for about 2 hours and then, oh look! 15 minutes before I have to wake-up! The worst was when I woke myself up crying in my sleep. I had a dream that I was holding BabyGrrrl and telling her over and over “I’m no sorry I had to leave you.” I woke up with tears on my face and sniffling. All I could do was cry.

My sessions with my therapist have been so frustrating lately. There’s a lot of concern about me being too hard on myself, expecting a lot and not cutting myself some slack. I keep telling her that I feel like I have to slack to cut, but she insists that it’s because I don’t allow myself to have it. I know she’s right, but I can’t wrap my mind around thinking any other way.

From what I know, my mom felt trapped her whole life. In a life she had no (perceived) control over. Sure she could have divorced my dad, left with or without the kids, and started a whole new life for herself (one that she wanted). BUT she WAS insecure, poor, spoke little English, and was uneducated. As she said “Where was I gonna go? Who was gonna take me in?” In the 1950’s, a woman of that background wasn’t gonna survive with a “I’m gonna trust that everything gonna work out” mindset. It’s like diving into a pool of sharks while you’re menstruating and thinking “If I stay positive, I’ll be safe”.

My whole young adult life was spent trying not to be that woman trapped in a life she did not like, and yet, somehow, here I am. Trapped. But according to my therapist, it’s a trap of my own design. you see, When I feel trapped I feel like I have no voice. And when I feel like I have no voice I fight and try to create order out of chaos. The more I try to get things in order, the quicker they fall apart.

According to my therapist, I need to trust. But it’s hard for me to trust as I was never taught how to trust. I didn’t know trust as a child. As an adult, I have no idea how to be okay with having no voice (having no control) and not trying to control the details of my life in those instances.

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